


The Bite Is A Gift

by Bunnywest



Series: Thighs Verse [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Peter Hale is a softwolf, Stiles leaps to conclusions, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22735882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: "Peter said he wants to expand the pack."Scott’s silent for far too long, and Stiles is just starting to wonder if he’s still on the line when he says quietly, “Maybe he wants to make you like him,”“I already like him. I married him,” Stiles reminds him drily.“No, like as inlikehim. A werewolf.”That pulls Stiles up short. No. Surely not.Peter’s never offered, and he’s never asked - how could Peter possibly presume he wants the bite?
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Thighs Verse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499069
Comments: 76
Kudos: 1012





	The Bite Is A Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey, have some pointless Valentine's day foolishness, set in the Thighs 'verse.

Stiles will admit that he’s a little excited for Valentine’s Day. Even though they’ve been married for two years now, Peter still takes every opportunity to spoil him, and Stiles loves it. Peter’s been casting him speculative glances over the past few days, in a way that Stiles knows means he has something planned, and Stiles has pretended not to notice.

When the day arrives, over breakfast Stiles presents Peter with the new bike helmet that Stiles knows he’s been eyeing up, and waits impatiently for whatever his gift is. But Peter just takes the helmet and kisses Stiles in thanks, and that’s that. There’s no gift box, no nothing.

Stiles pouts the tiniest bit. Peter raises a brow. “Are you sulking, pet?”

“No,” Stiles lies.

Peter gives a hum, head tilted. “When will you learn not to lie to a wolf? I’m guessing you were expecting a gift, and now you’re disappointed?”

“Maybe,” Stiles mutters.

Peter leans over the breakfast table and takes Stiles’s chin in hand, holding him so he has no choice but to look Peter in the eye. His expression’s far too serious for Stiles’s liking. “I haven’t forgotten, sweetheart. But we need to talk about what I want to give you first. And we don’t have time this morning. Can you wait till tonight?”

Stiles brightens a little at that. He didn’t really think Peter had forgotten, but the reassurance is nice. “Sure,” he breathes out. “Can I have a hint though?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “So impatient, pup. But yes, a tiny one.” He pauses, obviously chewing over his words, before saying, “It has to do with growing the pack.”

Stiles’s smile drops. “What do you mean, grow the pack?”

“As I said, we’ll discuss it tonight.” And with that Peter gives Stiles a quick peck and walks out the door, leaving Stiles sitting there confused.

* * *

Scott answers on the second ring. “I think Peter wants kids,” Stiles blurts out.

“What? Why do you think that?” One of the things Stiles loves about Scott is that whatever half-assed thing falls out of his mouth when he calls, Scott just rolls with it.

“He said this morning, that he wants to expand our pack.” With Peter’s permission, Stiles had told Scott about werewolves six months earlier, and it’s a relief not to having to censor himself anymore. “Scott, what if he wants a family? I’m not ready for kids! I might never be ready for kids!”

Scott hums. “You can always say no.”

“But then it’ll be a thing between us, and I’ll always know he wanted them and I didn’t agree. What if he leaves me? What if this is a dealbreaker?” Stiles can hear the hysterical note in his voice, but he can’t seem to control it.

“Breathe, Stiles.” Stiles does, grateful once again that his friend can read him like a book, even over the phone. “Has Peter ever mentioned wanting a family before?”

Stiles thinks about it. “No, never.”

“And Peter’s not someone to hold back when he wants something, right?”

It’s true. Peter’s always upfront about what he wants. “I guess,” Stiles agrees grudgingly. “But he said grow the pack! What else could it mean?”

Scott’s silent for far too long, and Stiles is just starting to wonder if he’s still there when he says, “Unless…”

“Unless? Unless what?”

“Maybe he wants to make you like him,” Scott says quietly.

“I already like him. I married him,” Stiles reminds him drily.

“No, like as in _like_ him. A werewolf.”

That pulls Stiles up short. No. Surely not. Peter’s never offered, and he’s never asked - how could Peter possibly presume he wants the bite? Not that he hasn’t thought about it - there are a lot of things that appeal, honestly. But he hasn’t thought about it _enough_ , and he knows the promise Peter made his dad, didn’t think Peter would ever push the issue.

Still. It’s Valentine’s day, and a gift is heavily implied. And what did Peter tell his dad? _“The bite is a gift.”_

Maybe Scott’s right.

He glances at the clock and sees his lunch break’s nearly over. “Gotta go,” he says. “I’ll call you later?”

“Let me know what happens.”

Stiles hangs up, and spends the last few minutes of his break mulling over the idea that Peter apparently wants to either bite him or have children with him. He’s not sure which one is more terrifying, honestly.

Stiles is distracted all afternoon by the scenarios running through his brain, so much so that his boss calls him out on it, teasing that he must have a big night planned. Stiles answers with a distracted ‘Sure, I’ll get right on that.” He flushes when he realizes what he said, but his supervisor just laughs and tells him to go home early since he’s useless, he can make up the hours when his head’s not in the clouds.

Stiles scrambles out the door before the man changes his mind. He beats Peter home for once and spends a long time in the shower, hoping it will help him relax, but it’s no good – his mind is racing, flipping between both possibilities. When he gets out, he calls the garage. “What do you mean, grow the pack?” he demands. “You have to tell me, because I’m freaking out here.”

Something in his tone must alert Peter to the fact that he’s genuinely distressed and not just impatient, because he says, “Deep breaths, sweetheart. I’m coming straight home. I’ll get the boys to lock up here.”

“Thank you.” Stiles feels a profound sense of relief that Peter’s coming home, but its mixed with an impending sense of doom. This is it. Peter’s going to ask something of Stiles that he can’t give. And Stiles will have to either suck it up and agree, or it will be a wedge between them, slowly driving them apart.

 _Deep breaths_ , he reminds himself.

* * *

When Peter comes barrelling through the door less than ten minutes later, Stiles is waiting there for him, and Peter buries his nose in the crook of his neck before pulling back, frowning. “What has you so upset, pet?”

Stiles swallows. “You – what you said. About expanding. I’m not sure I can give you what you want.”

Peter’s brow creases in confusion. “What exactly is it you think I want?”

Stiles figures it’s best to just get it out there, like ripping off a band-aid. “You want children and I don’t.”

Peter just looks more confused. “Children? Lord, no. The very idea is terrifying. What makes you think I want them?”

Stiles is taken aback. “You said expand the pack. You meant kids, right?”

“Please. We both know I’m far too self-absorbed to be a parent.” Peter’s watching him keenly, searching his face for some clue and frowning anew at whatever he sees there. “You’re still stressed. Stiles, what exactly are you thinking right now?”

Stiles lets himself take a moment, aware of Peter’s hands cradling his face, warm and comforting, knowing what he says next might spoil everything, but not able to stay silent. “You said you wanted to grow the pack. If it’s not children, then you want to give me the bite. And - I’m not ready. I just can’t.”

Peter’s face does something complicated at that. “I see.”

Stiles closes his eyes and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Strong arms encircle him, and then Peter’s holding him close. “Shhh, sweetheart. I promise, I have no intention of giving you the bite. Where on earth do you get these ideas?”

Even as he soaks up the comfort offered by the familiar feel of Peter’s body against his, even as relief starts to flood through him, Stiles is lost. “ You said, grow the pack,” he mumbles.

Peter sighs, hot air ghosting against Stiles’s neck. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I thought I was being clever, giving you something to keep you guessing, but instead you’ve added two and two and come up with seven. Such an overthinker.”

Stiles bristles a little at that. “Well, what _were_ you talking about then?”

“I was talking about a new pack member, but I meant a four legged one. Well,” Peter amends, ”practically four legged.”

“What the hell does _that_ mean?”

Unexpectedly, Peter lets out a low chuckle. “Come for a ride with me, and I’ll show you.”

* * *

The dog, Harley, is undeniably ugly. He’s so ugly that he passes hideous and tips right back over into 'so ugly he's adorable.' He’s also ridiculously friendly and Stiles wants to bundle him up and take him home right now. Dammit, Peter knows him too well. Still, Stiles has to at least pretend he’s not immediately besotted. “That,” he says slowly, “is a face only a mother could love.”

“I know. Truly awful,” Peter agrees cheerfully. “And then there’s the whole thing with the –“ He indicates where the pitbull is missing a rear leg. “But what he lacks in good looks he makes up for in personality. Don’t you, baby?” Peter crouches down so he can get his hands under the dog’s chin and give him a decent scritch, and the animal pants happily and leans his whole body against Peter’s frame. Stiles could swear the creature’s smiling, and he falls a little bit more in love with both the dog and his husband.

“And that’s my Valentines’ present? You want to adopt him?” Stiles can’t hide his smile.

Peter grins up at him, still scritching and petting. “He came into the rescue two weeks ago. You’ve always wanted a dog, and he can come to work with me during the day so he won't be alone. What do you think?”

Stiles sighs. “I think we’d better come back with the jeep, because he’s not going on the back of the bike. I mean, you keep threatening me with my own Harley – does this count?”

Peter beams widely, and it makes him look ridiculously attractive, reminding Stiles that it is Valentine’s day, after all. He crouches down next to Peter, speaking in an undertone that he knows Peter’s Were hearing will catch. “For now, I think you should take me home and hold me down and fuck me senseless, while we still have the house to ourselves, _Sir_.”

Peter’s eyebrows raise, and his pleased smile turns into a filthy smirk, one Stiles is intimately acquainted with. “That,” Peter murmurs, “sounds like an excellent plan.”

* * *

Later, as they lay in that special afterglow that only comes from _really, really_ good sex, Peter nudges him. “Did you honestly think I wanted children?”

Stiles gives a lazy shrug. “I didn’t know what to think. You were all cryptic and my brain ran haywire.”

Peter’s silent for a minute, before asking softly, “And the bite? Really not interested?” His tone is far too casual.

Stiles chooses his words carefully, because he saw Peter’s face when he said no, and he knew this conversation was coming. “I don’t _not_ want it. I’ve thought about it. It would be pretty great, in a lot of ways. But it’s a big decision, and –“

“You’re not ready,” Peter finishes for him.

Stiles rolls over so they’re facing, wanting Peter to see he’s sincere. “I just can’t. Not yet. You’re not disappointed?”

Peter kisses his forehead. “No, pet. As you say, it’s a big decision, and not something you can take back. I would never expect you to take that step unless you’re certain.”

Stiles feels a quiet peace settle in his chest, an assurance. “Like I said, this is not a no.”

His eyes are drifting closed when he hears a whispered, “So maybe? Someday?”

He smiles and pulls Peter close. “Definitely maybe.”


End file.
